


dastardly deeds

by confidantes



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M, rokudou mukuro the king of blackrom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 01:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11093745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confidantes/pseuds/confidantes
Summary: This has always been a game of cat and mouse.(Featuring more of people being insanely attracted to Mukuro while hating him at the same time.)





	dastardly deeds

**Author's Note:**

> posting a bunch of old fic from 2014 i dug up, don't mind me

He’s watching you light up on the edge of the bed.

He says, “You know I don’t associate with mafioso, don’t you, Smoking Bomb?”

You swing the lighter closed in your hand, and the hot  _fizz_ of newborn ash sizzles at the end of your cigarette. “You know it’s been ten years since you told me that, don’t you, Mukuro? And I’m not one step closer to believing it now than I did then.”

He laughs (which has always surprised you with its jaggedness), and steps closer, reaching his fingers until they trail your jaw. “I did always  _hate_ the clever ones,” he says, before leaning in and kissing you gently on the lips.

It’s a dark room, the 49th floor of a Shanghai hotel, so that the Pudong skyline gleams directly into your window. Distractedly, you gaze at the bright, magenta pearl atop a tower behind him. He’s never wanted to see you in daylight. Only behind closed doors and as anonymous hips. 

You’re strangely okay with that.

You push him away. “Let’s talk business, first.”

“Oh,  _Hayato,_ ” he drawls, draping himself over your lap and hugging your neck with his thin arms. “You do nothing but ruin the mood. What kind of prude kisses with their eyes open, anyway?”

He’s bigger than you, but you manage to throw him over and pin him to the bed with your forearms. He doesn’t even fight back. “I  _said,_ ” you snarl in his face, “let’s talk business first.”

He only smirks. “Storm Guardian likes to play rough. Why am I not surprised.”

You ignore him. “Do we have a  _deal_?”

The look in his eyes is a little hollow. “Even after your master is dead, you are such a loyal dog, aren’t you. I sometimes wonder if Ken would do the same for me, and he  _is_ part dog.” He cups your face with his hands. “Your rage is intoxicating, Hayato. And you are the only one who will leave marks on me when we fuck. I think I like that about you.” Your eyes narrow and his grin grows wider. “Don’t be so incorrigible. I’ll infiltrate the Millefoire for you Vongola, but make no mistake, it is not for Tsunayoshi’s sake. I have my own – ”

“ – agenda to see through,” you finish for him. “Yeah, I fucking know. That’s how it always with you, you two-faced, snivelling rat.”

“Oh, the sweetness of your words kills me, Hayato.”

You fist the hair on his forehead and pull his head back, until the white of his neck is exposed. (Outside, the cars honk down below. An ambulance siren goes off. The city never sleeps. This is as anonymous as it gets with a man you can’t stand the sight of.) “How many times,” you growl against the skipping vein of his jugular, “have I told you not to call me that?”

He’s already undoing the fastening of your belt buckle. “Not enough,” he murmurs, “never enough.”


End file.
